


Home Game

by orphan_account



Series: SPN Writing Challenge [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Fluff and Humor, Flutist!Cas, Football Games, M/M, Percussionist!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4928470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first home game of the season, and excitement is running high in the air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Game

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a pinch hit for the September 2015 "back to school"-themed challenge for the [SPN Writing Challenge](http://spnwritingchallenge.tumblr.com). The prompt was "band/orchestra/chorus". 
> 
> Dedicated to [Emily](http://unwinchesters.tumblr.com), my friend and soulmate, the Dean to my Cas. I love you, bae~ ♥

The sun was beginning to set on the horizon as Castiel, along with Jo, Hannah, and Sam, walked out to the football field, instrument cases in hand. The stands were sparsely filled with parents and students arriving for the first home game of the season, and the teams were warming up on the turf. Some recent pop song was playing from the speakers, and the air held a buzz of excitement.

“You guys excited for your performance?” Sam asked as they made their way up in to the bleachers. He grunted as he dragged a couple of bass drum stands along behind him. 

Castiel hummed in response as Jo and Hannah nodded.

“I mean, we only have the first two movements,” Hannah said, following Castiel into the row where the flutists and clarinetists sat. She set her clarinet case down, along with the box to stow her shako. “But I think it’s going to be good.”

“Let’s just hope the drumline doesn’t spontaneously start showing off again,” Jo laughed, coming down to them from where the trombone players were assigned. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, pulling it back up into a ponytail.

Sam chuckled too. “I wish I’d seen it. Dean had planned that all week. He wouldn’t shut up about it.”

Castiel smiled, helping Sam set up the bass drum stands after putting his own instrument case aside. “Crowley was thoroughly unamused,” he said. “I thought he was going to kick Dean out right in the middle of practice.”

“He would have, if Dean wasn’t the best snare we have,” Jo commented.

They all made noises of agreement, turning to head back to the band room to finish putting on their uniforms and get ready for warm up. Sam waved goodbye once they walked back into the school building, heading back out to find his mom where she was helping in the concession stands, and Jo saluted them before heading to the low brass section. Castiel walked with Hannah to the front of the setup, where the woodwinds sat. Hannah gave him a squeeze on the arm and headed to join Alfie and Raphael in the clarinet section.

Castiel had just shrugged into his uniform jacket when arms wrapped around him from behind and picked him up in a hug, and he let out an indignant squawk.

“Hey, babe!”

“Put me down, Dean!” he demanded, laughing. “I need to get ready.”

“ _Fine,_ ” Dean moaned, and set Castiel back on his feet. Castiel turned to face him with a glare that lacked any heat, and Dean smiled widely. “Need me to do ya?”

Castiel rolled his eyes but stood still, tilting his chin up as Dean grabbed the edges of his jacket and zipped it up, adjusting the collar before hooking it together properly.

“There,” he announced, arms falling to Castiel’s waist. Castiel smiled at him, leaning forward to steal a kiss, then gently pushed Dean away.

“Go finish getting ready,” he told Dean, glancing at the clock. “You have three minutes.”

Dean snorted, but backed away. “Plenty of time,” he grinned. “Not like Crowley’s gonna kick me out on game day.”

“Don’t tempt me, Winchester,” came the lazy accented voice of their director from up on the podium, and Castiel gave Dean a pointed look and tried not to smile as Dean headed back to the percussion section. His uniform trousers were unzipped and hanging around his hips like they’d all been instructed _not_ to let them hang, and Castiel kept his gaze on Dean’s ass until Dean turned to give him a wink and blew him a kiss.

Shaking his head, Castiel took his seat in the middle of the row, grabbing his piccolo and making sure his shako was beneath his chair before turning to look up at Crowley who was making faces and rolling his eyes.

“I don’t know how you stand him, Novak,” Crowley told him. “He’s a menace.”

Castiel just shrugged. “It’s his last year, _our_ last year,” he pointed out. “You only have to put up with him until May, and then you can find someone else that gives you ulcers.”

Crowley snorted in agreement and turned to pull Michael and Luce into conversation about what he wanted to run before the game, and Castiel relaxed in his seat until they were all called to attention. Michael, as head drum major, took the podium as Luce headed to the back of the room, and they spent the next fifteen minutes warming their instruments up before moving on to rehearsing the two movements they were performing.

A half hour before the game started, the band was released and told to block up outside so they could head into the stadium. Dean caught Castiel one more time as they headed out, pulling him into one more pre-game kiss before joining the drumline as Castiel joined Hael, Hester, and Anna up at the front of the block. Michael and Luce stood at the head of the band, waiting to lead them onto the track for the standard march around.

Catching his eye, Michael walked over to Castiel and smiled. “You ready?”

“As always,” Castiel replied, giving his brother a one-armed hug for luck, like they usually did. “I am vibrating with excitement.”

“Don’t let his deadpan deceive you,” Luce joked, joining them. He wrapped his arms around Michel’s waist and propped his chin on Michael’s shoulder. “He’s totally pumped for the game because he knows we’re gonna kick ass.”

They laughed, filling the next few minutes with mindless chatter as they waited. Dean joined them for a minute, his snare hanging on his chest and absently playing random rhythms on it. Castiel reached out to fix his hat, straightening it out and making sure the plume was fluffed perfectly before they were again called to order, and Dean left him again with a squeeze of his hand to stand with the drumline at the back of the block.

“Band!” Michael shouted, and everyone quickly took their places. “Ten-hut!”

“Hit!” came the collective shout from the band as everyone came to attention, instruments held rigidly and backs straight.

The evening air was warm as they stood at attention, and Castiel felt sweat beading on his brow under his shako and beneath his collar (their wool uniforms weren’t really meant for early September weather); he breathed deeply and licked his lips, resisting the urge to fidget as the band stood waiting for Crowley’s go-ahead. Once the few straggling parents of the kids on the away team cleared away, Luce gave the signal for Dean and the drumline to begin the familiar tune to which they marched in time as they entered the field. The stands were much fuller now, families taking up one side of the bleachers while students sat together at the other end, and cheers went up as the band entered.

Moving in time with the rest of the band, being out in front of a crowd – it all made Castiel’s chest feel light and put a smile on his lips, and he subtly nodded along with the drumline as they made their synchronized way out in front of the crowd. He made eye contact with Anna out of his peripherals, and they shared a grin as they turned to face the home stands to play the school song.

As soon as they were up in the stands, shakos were removed and Castiel sighed as he felt the light breeze cool against his sweat. He wanted to undo the jacket, but they wouldn’t be able to remove those until after halftime.

As a flutist, he sat right behind the drumline, so as soon as they were allowed a moment to settle in Dean made his way over to stand on the bleacher right below Castiel. He grinned wide, excitement in his eyes as he took one of Castiel’s hands.

“Hi,” he greeted, and Castiel smiled.

“Hello, Dean.” He tugged on Dean’s hand, leaning his forehead on Dean’s padded shoulder. “How are you?”

“I’m freaking fantastic,” Dean enthused. “We’re totally gonna kick ass tonight – the Devils don’t stand a chance.”

Castiel hummed in agreement. The Lawrence High Angels had quite the roster; for the last three years, they’d won all but two of their games, and had lost by only a field goal in the championship. It almost wasn’t fair to other teams, though – their running back Benny LaFitte was a force to be reckoned with, bringing them to victory nearly every time. Castiel was pretty sure the only reason they’d lost those two games over the years was because Benny had been sick and unable to play.

Not that they didn’t have a bit of competition in the Wichita Devils, who had Victor Henriksen as a quarterback. There was a reason this particular game was advertised as the Apocalypse.

Either way, it was sure to be an edge-of-your-seat ordeal.

The teams made their way out onto the field minutes later, and the game was underway not long after. Cheers and boos from both sides filled the air alongside the tunes the band played to keep the spirit and excitement pumping through the fans, and Castiel laughed with Anna, Hannah, and Balthazar as they all danced to the drumline. They mimicked the cheerleaders as they did their routines (it said something about band members that they memorized the cheer routines) and screamed louder than everyone every time the Angels scored.

A brief competition between their drumline and the Devils’ started up partway through the first quarter, and Dean was allowed to show off as he took them through the rhythms to show up the other team.

Castiel thought their team won, in his opinion, but he was probably biased.

Halfway through the second quarter, the score was 24-21 Angels as the band was taken down out of the stands to warm up for their halftime performance. They split into woodwinds and low brass to run through scales, then each of the sections separately ran through their parts of the show before they grouped up in full to run it all together. When they were allowed to stand for a minute break before needing to block up, they watched as the Devils scored another touchdown and heard loud groans sound in the air. The teams cleared off after that, and the cheer teams took the field to run their routines as the band blocked up in the dark corner of the track to wait for their time.

Their show this year was inspired by _Vientos y Tangos_ , and Castiel was excited for people to see what they’d included in the show, despite knowing most parents and students in the stands would be down at the concessions at this time. Most people didn’t pay attention to the band if they weren’t in it, or weren’t at a competition to specifically watch bands, but it was exciting nonetheless.

As soon as the cheerleaders had cleared off, Michael and Luce led the band out onto the field, and a moment later they were cued to find their first sets. The pit was setting up as Castiel jogged to his proper spot, and with a quick smile to Anna and Hester, they took their starting poses.

Castiel kept his eyes on Michael as he confirmed that the pit was ready, and the show began. It was probably his favorite of all his time in high school, though whether because it was his last one or because he simply had a thing for Spanish tangos, he couldn’t say. Either way, Castiel allowed the adrenaline to fill him as he moved across the field with the rest of the people he’d come to call his family over the years, faintly hearing the people who’d remained in the stands cheer them on as form after form was unfolded on the turf below them.

Once they’d finished the second movement, breathing heavily and sweat beginning to pool beneath their collars, the band turned to play the school song one more time before the end of halftime. After that, they jogged off the field and back up into the stands to wait for the start of the third quarter so they could take their break. Castiel had his jacket and shako off and put away along with his piccolo in the space of minutes, making sure he had his wallet as he turned to wait for Dean to head down below the stands to the concession stands.

As soon as Dean had taken his snare off and tucked his jacket away, Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and his legs around Dean’s waist, pressing kiss to a sweat-covered hairline. Dean laughed as he carried Castiel piggyback down the bleachers.

“What are we thinking?” Dean asked, adjusting his grip on Castiel’s thighs. “Nachos? Hot dogs? Burgers?”

“Burgers,” Castiel answered decisively, propping his chin on Dean’s shoulder. “I think your mom managed to smuggle in some condiments this time, so we won’t have just a patty on bread. My mom was admittedly impressed.”

“That’s because my mom is awesome,” Dean chuckled, and he let Castiel down to the ground as they came to stand in line at the concessions.

“Very true.”

At the front of the line, Mary smiled at them from behind the counter, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Hey, boys. How was it?”

“I am confident in our progress,” Castiel answered with a smile. “I think we have a more than adequate chance of placing in the top five at the Nightrider Invitational.”

“More than adequate, he says,” Dean scoffed, voice light. “What he means is we’re gonna kick ass and take first.”

“Of course you will,” she agreed, leaning on the counter. “I have all the faith in you guys. Anyway, what can we get you guys? You want the burgers?”

“You know us too well, Mom.”

Mary laughed as she turned to go get them their food, and Sam, helping out, set two cups of soda in front of them, along with a large bottle of water to split.

“Thanks, bitch,” Dean smiled as he chugged at his soda.

“You’re welcome, jerk,” Sam shot back with a grin, before heading off to help someone else.

Mary returned with two baskets full of fries and hot off the grill burgers, and Castiel felt his mouth watering at the smell. “The condiments are on that table over there,” she said, pointing across the room. “Feel free to use as much as you want.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Dean said, grabbing his own basket.

“You’re taking Cas home with you after the game, right?”

“Yup! He’s staying the night.”

“I’ll let Naomi know, then.” Mary leaned over the counter to press a kiss to his head. “Have a good rest of the game, guys. See you at the house later.”

“See ya, Mom!” With that parting, Dean took Castiel’s hand and pulled him over to the table where they could choose from lettuce, onions, pickles, mayonnaise, mustard, ketchup, and other dressings for their burgers. They grabbed what they needed, and Castiel found them a spot by the wall to sit and eat in peace.

When they were done eating, Castiel took their baskets and tossed them in the trash before sitting down by Dean again, leaning his head on Dean’s shoulder and bumping Dean’s outstretched foot with his own. Dean took his hand resting on his thigh, letting their fingers entwine loosely, and they sat quietly for several long moments. They could hear the cheers and boos of the crowd outside, and Castiel felt it was a safe bet that it was a very, very close game.

“Think we’ve got time for me to blow you in the bathroom?” Dean’s voice interrupted the silence, light and nonchalant.

Castiel pulled away to stare at his boyfriend with wide eyes. Dean just stared back, expectant. “That is highly inappropriate and unsanitary, Dean Winchester.”

“But you want me to, don’t lie to yourself.” There was a smile in Dean’s voice despite his calm, serious expression.

“That is beside the point,” Castiel rolled his eyes, leaning his head back on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sure you can control yourself long enough to wait until after the game in the Impala.”

“But you _do_ want me to blow you?” There was a definite smirk on Dean’s face, Castiel could just tell.

Castiel just squeezed his hand and let that be answer enough.

Dean chuckled, turning his head to press a kiss to Castiel’s temple, before shifting to stand up and pulling Castiel with him.

“C’mon, Cas, let’s get back out there.”

They got back just as the fourth quarter was starting, and the rest of the game passed with more stand tunes, another drumline battle, and several great plays from both teams. Benny was leading the Angels to a close victory, and the adrenaline was high, nearly bursting, each time the referee’s whistle sounded to stop a play.

In the end, the Angels were indeed victorious in overtime; the final score sat at 62-56. The home crowd cheered and hollered until they’re voices were hoarse, and Castiel was breathing just as heavily as he had after their halftime performance.

The band had to wait until the crowds had cleared out before heading back into the school in a lose block. Back inside, Castiel stripped out of his uniform, hanging his jacket and uniform trousers in his garment bag and putting his shako in its box, his piccolo back in its case. Standing in his jogging shorts and the required travel shirt, Castiel checked his phone for the time – 11:46 pm; this had been a late game – and then looked around for Michael, finding him putting his own things away and talking to Luce. He headed over with a smile and parting wave to Hannah and Balthazar, squeezing Alfie’s shoulder and saluting Jo.

“I’m going home with Dean,” he said as he approached Michael, and Michael nodded as he folded his trousers to hang.

“Does Mom know?”

“Yes. Mary told her.”

“Alright.” Michael laid his uniform down and pulled Castiel into a loose, one-armed hug. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and I’ll see you at home tomorrow afternoon.”

Castiel rolled his eyes as he turned to grab his things and find Dean. “Of course, Michael. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Cas.”

Dean met him at the door to the band room, his own garment bag hanging over his shoulder. “Ready to go?”

“Yes.”

They headed out to the Impala, waving goodnight to their friends, and after putting their things in the trunk, Castiel slid into the front seat with a sigh, inhaling the familiar, soothing aroma of leather and cinnamon. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the headrest as Dean joined him in the driver’s seat and turned the key. The purr of the Impala’s engine filled the car, and Castiel let out another long breath.

“No blowjob tonight, then?” Dean teased, pulling out of the parking lot. His hand came to rest on Castiel’s thigh, massaging gently and only lightly letting his fingers trail elsewhere.

Castiel intercepted them, curling their fingers together. “You are insatiable, Dean Winchester.”

Even with his eyes closed, Castiel could see the bright smile gracing Dean’s lips.

“Can’t ever get enough of you, Cas. Don’t think I ever will.”

“Mm, careful,” Castiel warned sleepily, a smile of his own playing at his lips. “People might think you do feelings and chick flick moments.”

Dean laughed out loud at that and squeezed Castiel’s hand before letting it go long enough to switch on the radio. The rifts of _Ramble On_ filled the cab of the car, and Dean hummed along softly as they headed home.

Castiel smiled in full, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Dean’s jaw and lay his head on Dean’s shoulder.

He couldn’t get enough of Dean either. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [leviathncas](http://leviathncas.tumblr.com)


End file.
